Challenging the Peronists

An opposition get-together brings new trouble for Argentina’s Carlos Menem

“THE most important political event of this decade,” declared a jubilant Rodolfo Terragno, one of the leaders of the Radical Union, as he announced the opposition alliance between his party and the centre-left Frepaso. Even allowing for politicians' rhetoric, he may—for Argentina—have a point.

As recently as last week the deal, though long discussed, seemed impossible. It has changed Argentina's political map overnight. Suddenly the opposition finds itself with a credible chance of winning not only a majority in Congress, where half the lower house is due for election in October, but in 1999 the presidency itself.

The last non-Peronist presidency, that of the Radical leader, Raul Alfonsin, fell apart in 1989 in a shambles of hyperinflation. Carlos Menem, elected that year, cleared things up and was deservedly re-elected in 1995, even though a recession was already under way. Since then, his stock has fallen, and he has parted company with Domingo Cavallo, the economics minister who conducted the fight against inflation. But the economy is now on the mend, and Mr Menem's would-be Peronist successor, Eduardo Duhalde, governor of Buenos Aires province, has been studiously distancing himself from other, less savoury aspects of the regime. Divided, the opposition risked being crushed as it was in 1995. It has cause to rejoice.

Not too loudly, though. The alliance is as yet only an electoral one—and not even that in some provinces. Frepaso is strong in Buenos Aires city and in the wider province, and in the big city of Rosario, north-west of the capital. But it is weak elsewhere, and some Radical leaders are reluctant to share power. Mr Menem has been quick to seize on such differences.

Though the alliance on August 6th launched a joint “emergency programme”, it will not be easy to unite Frepaso's leftish technocrats and the Radicals' old guard. Ideas apart, the two have hurdles of political culture to surmount. Frepaso's breezy, modern style reflects its short history. It has evolved only in the past few years as a challenge to the traditional parties; even now it is more of a front than a party, with plenty of support but little organisation. The Radicals, in contrast, have been one of the poles of Argentine politics since the 19th century. Though their man came a sorry third in 1995, to link with others is still a traumatic notion for many older members.

Yet, for all their history and structure, they need Frepaso to deliver the votes. In Buenos Aires province, home to two-fifths of the nation's electorate, recent polls have put the Peronists well ahead, with about 35% support, Frepaso next with near 30%, but the Radicals trailing on around 20%.

It was those numbers that brought Mr Alfonsin to back the alliance. Heading the Radical list of congressional candidates in Buenos Aires, he was hostile. But it was clear that his party and his own career risked being rubbed in the mud. Now a Frepaso senator, Graciela Fernandez Meijide, will head the joint list, and Mr Alfonsin will not stand at all. Still his decisive role in the formation of the new alliance has saved his face (and indeed reportedly impressed Mr Menem to the point that the president confided to his advisers that “this shows there are two leaders who know their politics in Argentina: me and Alfonsin”).

The birth of the alliance has even persuaded the Peronists to pull together. Two days after it was announced, Mr Menem appeared at a rally with Mr Duhalde, for the first time in months. Not that Mr Duhalde may be wholly happy. His platform can be summed up as “economic stability, yes, but more concern for welfare too”, and he had persuaded his wife to head his party's congressional slate in Buenos Aires with slogans reminiscent of the populist appeal of Evita Peron. Now the opposition has both hidden from sight Mr Alfonsin, symbol of economic chaos, and stolen Mr Duhalde's welfare clothes. On top, up now pops Mr Menem at his side, and ready to take the spotlight as what might have been a fairly easy provincial skirmish becomes part of a fierce nationwide battle.

With the president apparently ready to take the gloves off, that battle will be rough—and maybe worse than that. Even before announcing their union, the opposition parties had accused the government of playing dirty. So far, their main evidence has been a spate of posters accusing Frepaso of links to terrorism, and the noisy launch of several new magazines, allegedly subsidised by a government slush fund, that specialise in tendentious attacks on opposition figures. But the stakes are now high, and Mr Menem's nerves will not have been calmed by the new allies' decision to make corruption a key theme. Suppose they were to win the presidency, and then set about looking for dirt?